Vamp
by black dagger
Summary: after MGS2. Vamp goes to get his revenge for fortunes death...only to open the pandora's box which is his life before dead cell.
1. Introduction

**Vamp**

**Introduction**

_Authors note: Two things_

_Look out for my other serious Metal Gear story coming soon about the Cobra Unit._

_This is to all the people who flamed my last MGS story simply because of my theory about Ocelot…"I told ya so"…_

He kicked off the wall and landed in the water. For a brief second he hung there, as if finding his balance and then began to jog slowly on the surface. To anyone watching this would seem an even more impossible movement, as he was hardly moving. Speeding up slightly he ran towards shadow of the huge machine.

THE MACHINE. CLANKING COGS, MOVING, ALWAYS MOVING, AND CONTROLLING EVERY SINGLE MOVEMENT OF THE MACHINE. SO EASY TO DESTROY, AND YET AT THE SAME TIME, SO HARD.

The machine grew closer as he ran. The closer he got the more the machine grew on the horizon.

THE MACHINE COULD GROW BECAUSE IT COULD THINK. IT COULD ADD PARTS TO ITSELF WITHOUT IT'S OTHER PARTS KNOWING

He jumped. Hitting the metal of the machine with a solid thud. Rain beat down on his head. His hair didn't look wet though, and his face looked determined. He looked around, looking for anything that shouldn't be there.

THE MACHINE KNEW. KNEW SOMETHING WAS WRONG. KNEW THAT SOMETHING HAD HAPPENED.

He noticed what he was looking for, the small heap on the floor. The rain made the leather shine, wet with blood.

A tear ran down his cheek. It was the first time he had felt cold in the midnight rain.

THE MACHINE HAD TO STOP. IT HAD TO KNOW WHAT WAS WRONG. IT HAD TO REBUILD ITSELF.

He fell on his knees and held the figure on the floor.

THE MACHINE HAD FOUND IT. A COG HAD BROKEN. IT HAD TO FIX ITSELF. THE SMALLEST THING HAD BROKEN, AND BROUGHT DOWN THE ENTIRE MACHINE.

He stood, lifting the figure onto his shoulder with ease. He could feel her blood running down his cheek. An unnaturally long tongue licked at the blood. Tasting it…savouring it.

She was special.

THE MACHINE WAS BROKEN. IT COULDN'T FIX ITSELF. THE RAMPAGE WAS OVER. IT FELT SO HELPLESS…

GIVE A MACHINE A MIND, AND IT COULD FEEL ANYTHING.

Vamp felt deserted. He leaped from the now still machine and ran towards the river bank.

Hours passed. The public were told about the 'metal gear' built by renegades. It was unbelievable, but people believed what was given to them.

In a park somewhere a heap of freshly dug mud had been placed back into its original position. There was no tombstone. Just a single Red rose growing.

THE MACHINE COULD FEEL LOSS AS MUCH AS ANYONE…ANYTHING ELSE. THE COGS WERE WHAT CONTROLLED IT. AND NOW THE COGS WEREN'T WORKING. THE MOST IMPORTANT COG DIDN'T WORK.

His shadow was trembling on the mud. The rain had made the word wet and hard, but at least she'd be all right now. Protected.

He was lucky that the rain and wind hadn't blown her off the machine. He stepped into the moonlight and looked up for a minute before walking off into the night…

THE MACHINE HADN'T GIVEN UP. ONE COG HAD BEEN BROKEN AND YET IT COULD STILL LEARN TO MOVE WITHOUT THE COG.

GIVE A MACHINE A MIND, AND IT COULD DO ANYTHING…


	2. Chapter 1

**Vamp**

**Chapter 1**

**Bloodlust**

The soldier hadn't known what had hit him…

The government owned Crane Co Skyscraper had become a front.

For years the company was one of the leading developers of Weapon Technology. However, Armstech had become the more powerful and wiped all the other companies of the map. Even after Armstech had dissolved, due to lack of funding, there had still been difficulties for all the other, now small, companies to get back on track.

So Crane Co had packed up and left the building. And Car Co had moved in. Car co claimed to build family cars, which any American would be proud to drive.

A true patriots car.

But anyone inside the building knew it was a front for a large government plot to rebuild the machine.

Any intelligent person would probably have guessed that most family car designers don't have armed guards on the door.

But people will believe what you tell them.

The soldier had believed what he had been told. The heavily set, 6 foot 7 high soldier had believed that he was safe.

Suddenly something had just appeared. It had jumped out of nowhere and knocked him on the floor.

On closer inspection this something appeared to be an attractive man, whose bare chest showcased a line of scars. He had a belt lined with knives and even when he moved not a single knife moved.

Neither did his long hair which cascaded around his head and stopped just where the scars began.

He was a tall man, but quite small compared to the soldier.

Being bigger scared the soldier more then if he had been the smaller of the two. He reached for the gun at his waste and…stopped.

For a few second there was intense pain. And then there was nothing.

The man looked down. His stomach had been cut, his guts were hanging out. He hadn't seen the man move. Even now, he was just staring down at the soldier. A slight evil smile on his lips.

"Don't worry, friend," The man whispered, almost soothingly "It'll be over soon."

And with that the soldier collapsed into a heap on the floor.

When the soldier was found it was a shock to everyone. Not just the fact that he'd been killed in such a brutal way, but that he'd been killed in such a brutal, yet organised way.

The cut had been aimed so it would be a quick, relatively painless death. There had been no cuts to the face or arms and only a little damage to the legs, where he'd been moved with some force.

His blood had also been carefully drained.

His death didn't feature on the national news. It didn't feature on the local news. There was a memorial to him on the Car Co website, but it didn't sayhow it hadhappened.

The only people who knew what had happened were the mysterious man and the heads of the Car Co…

Nobody knew what had happened to the Mysterious man after the killing.

* * *

There were 12 people on the committee for the Car Company. And right now they were gathered together in a dark rooom.

"He has returned" One of them said. Probably one of the lower respected ones as he spoke quickly and quietly. This triggered a series of mini-conversations.

"That is correct" This voice was sharp. To the point.

"W-well what are you going to do?" The first man stuttered. There was silence now. Listening for the second mans reaction.

"Do, Mr Hardy? Do?" This was a female voice. She spoke quite calmly.

"Well. You can't expect us to go up against that." His confidence was gaining. He could feel the power that he had here. He was talking to the boss; this was his chance to shine!

"There is nothing we can do. I told you when we let him go if a single thing went wrong then he would return here. Hunting for you, all of you. His life was ruled for us and we are beaten into him. Even if fortune hadn't…"

"That has nothing to do with it!" A fourth man snapped.

"Please sit down Mr Jackson." The woman's voice was cool as ice.

"But this creature is killing because of us. Because of what we did to Helena and for what we did to the whole of Dead Cell!"

"Mr Jackson. I will not ask again" She said in a business like manner.

There was a silence. In the shadows someone sat down.

"I do not expect you to go up against him. He is unstoppable. We brought him up so he could be. You Mr Hardy would not stand a chance against someone of that calibre. Before you throw your rattle out the buggy Mr Hardy, neither would I, nor anyone else in this room. He is almost impossible to kill and therefore I don't think any of us should try."

There was silence. He was always right…

"So…" Mr Hardy said, stupidly continuing "So…" he repeated for effect "we're meant to just stand here and let the bastard destroy one soldier after another?"

"Why not Mr Hardy? The soldiers are expendable. And he won't kill many more. After all, it's you he's after. He probably just used that Soldier as a snack"

"Snack? The mans a monster!"

"No Mr Hardy. The man is not a monster. The man is doing what he can to survive."

"But…he's evil!"

"This is the real world," the boss said coldly. "Mr Hardy, this is not a video game. In the real world there is no such thing as good or evil, just opposing viewpoints. In some people's eyes killing you all will be for the greater good."

"You keep say killing you," Mr Hardy continued still. "How come you don't say "Killing us"? You were there after all."

"He doesn't know of me…or of Miss Brody. When we added his new memories we could not destroy any of the old ones. If the top layer, the new memories, we someone altered…or he came under great stress, like fortunes recent demise, then the second layer would open. It was our idea to make a third layer. A layer for Miss Brody and I. If the memories of you are some how altered, then it shall be us to suffer."

"You…Bastard" It was Mr Jackson Again. "You let us believe we were all equal! You let us believe that all of us had an equal say in what happened!"

"Mr Jackson. You let the people of this country believe this is a democracy. Call it…poetic justice."

"So what now?" It was Mr Hardy again "We're just going to drop dead? One by one?"

"Yes. Give my regards to the child when you see him…"

"You are a real…bastard!"

"Mr Hardy. You are starting to annoy me. I'm going to leave now and if I hear from you until the next meeting I shall be very VERY angry. Do you understand?"

"Yes…"

"Good…"

* * *

People left the meeting one by one, as to not see each other's faces. Mr Hardy left last.

As he left the building the crisp, frosty night air hit him like a ton of bricks. It felt fresh. It made him feel good. There was snow hitting the ground and there was already a good two inches on the floor.

As Hardy walked down the street to the car, he made footprints. Looking back, seeing where he had walked and comparing his shoe size to that of other people.

He walked down the alley, thinking about his childhood, thinking about the time he spent in the snow as a child all those years ago. He reached his car, which was blanketed in snow. He put the key in the door and twisted it, unlocking it…

He stopped. Lifting a hand up to his cheek he felt the newly made hole. He stuck his tongue through it…

A snowflake landed on his tongue and he moved it back in to his mouth, savouring the taste.

"Blood on Snow is one of life's few natural art works." Who ever it was who had made the hole sounded exactly like someone Hardy knew…

The maroon liquid had dripped onto his car, his shoes and on the ground around him. He had to admit it was beautiful.

"Do you remember me?" The figure said.

Hardy nodded. He regretted doing so. Pain flung itself across his cheek.

"You know what I'm going to do?

Hardy nodded again, slowly.

"You deserve this. You killed my friend…"

"Ocelot killed your-"

He stopped. He stared into the distance.

"You're just like the boss" He said, seeing the man in the shadows for the firstand last time.

And then he fell into a heap on the ground…


End file.
